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Prompt: Hello! I very much enjoy all of your Sanders Sides fics. I am a Roman Stan first and foremost and you do his angst a delicious service. I was wondering, (if you have the time &/or energy) if you would be for writing a Roman, who instead of just turning into a small child (I love that fic btw), he (they) also turn into a girl. Because in Roman's sweet mind, Princes (and Princesses) save the day but only princesses get saved from the big bad in the end. (Not exactly but unfortunately there's more evidence for than against.) So, when Roman feels overwhelmed and upset and horrid, welcome the little princess, except no one knows because how silly, how selfish, how childish to turn into a little girl because that's the only way you think anyone will hold you and protect you and save you, even from yourself? If you like the idea, could you maybe include C!Thomas who keeps seeing her out of the corner of his eye and freaking out because why is there a small child in his house?! Thanks! Hope you're having a great November! - anon
It isn’t uncommon for some of the Imagination’s creations to get loose in the rest of the Mindscape, so when Thomas catches sight of a little girl in a sparkly dress near the window, he doesn’t pay her much mind. Odds are she’s simply wandered a bit far away from the door on accident and Roman or Remus will be along to fetch her any moment.
But then he takes another step closer and she startles terribly, almost falling over. Her eyes go wide and she brings her hands up to shield herself.
“Hey, whoa, I’m sorry,” Thomas says quickly, crouching down, “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m not gonna hurt you, see? I’m just over here.”
The little girl lowers her hands slowly, eyeing him warily as she presses herself against the wall.
“See?” He waves. “It’s only me. I’m just a—well, I’m just a person. I’m not gonna hurt you.”
When she doesn’t seem to move anymore, he sits, crossing his legs.
“Are you lost?” She glances at the window. “Did you want to look outside?”
“Mhm.”
“Are your parents anywhere nearby? Do you know?”
“They’re not here.”
“Okay. Do you need help finding them?”
“No.”
This isn’t getting them anywhere. Thomas glances over his shoulder. Where are the twins?
“Hey, hey, it’s okay, don’t cry,” he says when he looks back to see her eyes welling up with tears, “it’s okay, I—um, oh, god, I’m not good at this.”
Patton. Patton’s good at this. Let’s get Patton here.
“Thomas? What’s going on, I heard—oh, hey.”
Thank God. Patton’s voice softens immediately upon seeing the crying child and he’s crouching down too, holding his arms out.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “are you okay? Are you scared?”
The little girl nods, still tucked against the wall. Patton makes a sympathetic noise.
“Do you need help, sweetheart? Can you tell us what’s going on?”
“’M scared.”
“I’m sorry you’re scared. Do you want a hug?”
The little girl scrambles up and into his arms, letting him scoop her into a cuddle and tuck her head under his chin. He lets out more soothing noises as he rubs her back, rocking her slightly back and forth.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“R-Rose.”
“Rose? That’s a very pretty name,” he says, pulling back to wipe the tears from her cheeks, “just like your dress. That’s a very sparkly dress, sweetheart, I like it a lot.”
Watery giggles clear the rest of the tears from her eyes as Patton picks her up.
“Did you get lost, sweetheart? Do you need to go back to the Imagination?”
Rose nods, fingers curling shyly into Patton’s shirt.
“Can I carry you there? Yeah? Okay, let’s go.”
Rose looks over Patton’s shoulder at Thomas as they walk off. Thomas waves and she waves back.
Huh.
When Thomas sees the little girl by the window again, he coughs before he gets too close.
“Rose, right?”
“Yeah.” She shifts a bit, adjusts her sparkly dress before looking at the window. “‘M Rose.”
“Are you lost again?”
“No. I like looking out the window.”
“Can I come sit with you?”
“Uh-huh.”
Thomas sits next to her, catching sight of a crown sitting next to her that he doesn’t remember seeing before. “Is that yours?”
“The crown? Mhm, ’s mine.”
“Are you a princess?”
Rose glances at him, then back out the window. “I guess.”
He frowns. “Do you…does that make you sad? Being a princess?”
“Why does the sky do that?”
“Huh?” He looks out the window. “Do what?”
“Change colors like that when the sun goes down.” Rose points at the reds and yellows at the horizon, moving her fingers slowly up to the darkening sky. “Why do they do that?”
“Well, it’s because—uh, actually, let’s ask one of my friends.”
“Thomas?” Logan rises up behind them. “You called?”
“Can you explain why the sky changes colors when the sun sets? Rose is curious.”
It’s a wonderful thing, he decides, to watch Logan’s eyes brighten at the thought of teaching someone something new.
“Well,” he says, taking a seat next to them, “light from the sun is made up of many different colors. All the colors of the rainbow.”
“Is that why rainbows happen when it rains?”
“Yes. The water from the rain acts as a prism, which is something that splits light into all its different colors.”
“But how does it tell the colors apart?”
“Every color of the rainbow has a different wavelength, do you know what that means?” Logan holds out his hand and produces a slinky. “Here, take one end of this.”
Rose takes the slinky and Logan stretches it out, explaining what wavelengths are by wiggling one end of the slinky up and down so it makes a wave.
“So all of light has a wavelength?”
“Each color has its own wavelength, that’s right. When they have to travel through something, the wavelengths can get split up. That’s why rainbows form.”
“But it’s not traveling through anything when the sun sets, it’s just going through the sky.”
“What’s the sky made of?”
Rose frowns. “Nothing?”
“Not quite. It’s made up of air, lots of air molecules.” Logan lifts his hand and taps different points on the window. “And so when the light hits all the different molecules, it scatters.”
“Like a pinball machine?”
Logan chuckles. “Yes, Rose, like a pinball machine. And when that happens during the day, the blue and green light scatters the most because their wavelength is the shortest.”
“Is that why the sky’s blue?”
“Yes, that’s right.” Logan points at the sun disappearing below the horizon. “And so when the sun goes down, all the blue and green light goes away very quickly, which means that we see the red and yellow light.”
Rose looks out the window again, tracing the path Logan drew with his fingers. “So red takes the longest?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
Rose grows quiet, leaning against Logan’s shoulder. He glances at Thomas—who’s just been sitting here, dude—and sighs, resigning himself to being a pillow for a while. It’s not that bad when you get used to it.
“You’re falling asleep, Rose,” he points out softly when the sky’s darkened fully, “shall we take you back to the Imagination?”
Rose mumbles sleepily but lets Logan pick her up and carry her off, waving at Thomas again. Thomas waves back, glancing out the window as they leave.
Logan’s explanation means that all the other colors are always there, they’re just never seen until the sun goes down. He’s not quite sure how he feels about that.
Or why Rose seemed to care so much.
He doesn’t see Rose for a while, not until the next big thunderstorm.
He walks past the window to see one of the curtains trembling and he sighs, already reaching out for Virgil.
“Hey, Thomas, what’s up?”
Thomas nods to the shaking curtain. “I think one of the Imagination’s people is here. Her name’s Rose, she’s a princess, I think she’s scared.”
Virgil glances over and bites back a curse. “Have you been able to get ahold of Roman or Remus?”
“You’re the best at dealing with scared people.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“I…can’t tell if that was sincere or not.”
“Yeah, neither can I.” Virgil crouches down near the bundle of fabric, voice gentling to a low rumble. “Hey, Princess, you in there?”
A soft squeak.
“It’s okay, Princess, I’m not gonna hurt you. My name’s Virgil, what’s your name?”
“R-Rose.”
“Hi, Rose, it’s nice to meet you. Hey, hey,” he murmurs when another crash of thunder makes her squeak, “it’s okay, Princess, you just listen to me, okay? I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.”
“O-okay.”
“I’ve never met a princess before,” he says softly, “I think that’s really neat.”
“You do?”
“Oh, yeah. Princesses are…real cool.” He makes a face that makes Thomas bite back a laugh. “I like all their stories. There are so many stories about princesses, they’re all people can talk about. I think they’re super interesting.”
A little head peeks out from under the curtain. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, Princess. Do you have a favorite princess story?”
“…Cinderella.”
“‘Cinderella?’ That’s a good one, I like that one too. I like hearing about all the magic where the pumpkin gets turned into a chariot.”
“…I like the end.”
“The end?” Bit by bit, Virgil coaxes Rose out of the curtain and into the lea of him where she doesn’t have to see the storm. “What about the ending’s your favorite?”
“She gets saved,” Rose says, toying with her dress that looks a bit less sparkly in the stormy light, “an’—an’ that’s okay.”
“It’s okay that she gets saved?” Rose nods. “Why’s that your favorite bit?”
Rose opens her mouth to answer when there’s another flash. She squeaks, lunging forward to wrap her arms around Virgil.
“Whoa, whoa, hey, shh, Princess, it’s okay, I gotcha. You’re doing great.” He rubs her back. “Why don’t you finish what you were telling me about Cinderella?”
But Rose isn’t talking anymore, quivering like a leaf in Virgil’s arms. He rocks her back and forth in his lap, shooting concerned glances at Thomas who has just accepted he’s going to be mostly useless right now.
“Hey,” he tries again, “let’s get you back home, okay? I’m sure there’s a lot of people there that’d be willing to help you. Is that okay? It’s probably not storming there either.”
Rose sniffles as Virgil slowly stands up, carrying her off down the hall. As they pass Thomas, Rose reaches out and clutches the fabric of his shirt for a moment. He awkwardly pats her hand and she lets go.
He glances out the window before drawing the curtains, wondering what she could’ve meant by it’s okay that she’s saved.
When he gets to the window again, he is expecting to see Rose.
He is not expecting to see Janus already there, sprawled out in the sunlight and a nervous little princess a few feet away.
“Well,” Janus hisses, drawing himself up, “what have we here? A little morsel, wandered too far from home?”
Part of Thomas wants to step forward, tell Janus to knock it off, not to scare her, but Rose doesn’t seem all that scared. So he hovers in the hallway, ready to step in if he has to.
“Foolish little princess,” Janus hisses, doing his very best impression of a Disney villain, “don’t you know it’s dangerous to explore on your own?”
“I’ve been here before,” Rose says, crossing her arms and stamping her foot, “and you’ve never been here.”
“Mm, or have I?” Janus moves a bit closer, arms reaching out for her. “Maybe I’ve been here the whole time and you just haven’t seen me.”
“N-no, I would notice you.”
“Would you?”
“Yes,” she says, firmer this time, “I would notice you. You’re big and yellow and black and I would see you.”
Janus chuckles. “Clever little princess. Tell me, what brings you all the way out here?”
“I sit here. I like to look out of the window.”
“Oh? And what do you do? Survey your kingdom?”
“This isn’t my kingdom.”
“No?” Janus curls up lazily, still inching towards her. “Then where is your kingdom? How can you be a princess without a kingdom?”
“I have one,” Rose insists, “it just isn’t here.”
“Mm. It’s trouble for a princess to leave her kingdom without a knight or a guard,” Janus says, kneeling up to loom over her a bit. “Who knows what could happen, especially when she wanders into a snake’s den?”
“Why did you come here?”
“For the sunlight, little princess, and for you.”
Rose squeals as he playfully wraps his arms around her—no, Thomas doesn’t understand why he has six arms if he’s a snake—and pulls her into his lap. “Why do you want sunlight?”
“Snakes are cold, little princess, and sunlight is so warm.” He hisses gently in her ear to make her giggle. “And so are you. Snakes steal heat, little princess, maybe I should steal some from you.”
“N-no,” she giggles, “it’s my heat, you can’t take it! It’s mine!”
“Oh, but I can, little princess, I can steal your heat from you right now.”
Thomas watches somewhat spellbound as Janus gently tickles Rose until she’s laughing properly, all fear gone as they sit together in the sunlight. When she bats at his hands he stops, cuddling her to his chest and sighing contentedly.
“Thank you for your heat, little princess,” he murmurs, kissing her cheek, “see? It’s not so bad.”
Rose lets out a squeaky little yawn and curls up, letting him hold her.
“Why don’t we have a nap,” he suggests, adjusting his position to lean against the wall, still in the sunlight, “hmm? Will you nap in the sunlight with me?”
“Mhm.”
“That’s a good little princess.”
When Rose is asleep, little snores filling the hallway, Janus glances over at Thomas who shrugs.
“How long has she been…coming here?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do the twins know?”
Thomas frowns. “You know what? I don’t actually think I’ve seen them since she started showing up.”
Janus hums. “That’s not ideal. I’ve spoken to Remus recently, I’ll ask him what he knows.”
Rose stirs in his lap and they quiet, waiting until she falls back asleep.
“You got her?”
“Yes. I’ll bring her back to the Imagination when she wakes.”
“Will you read with me?”
Thomas blinks in surprise when Rose holds out a book. He takes it carefully and sits down, opening it and propping it on his lap so she can see. “What do you want to read?”
“Can we read the story about The Paperbag Princess?”
“Sure. Do you want to read?”
“Mhm.”
They turn to the page with the title. Rose reaches out and underlines the words with her finger as they go. They read through the first few pages before she stops.
“How big do you think that paper bag is?”
“Well, it’s big enough for her to wear it like a dress, so pretty big.”
“Where do you get paper bags that big? What do you carry in them?”
“Maybe she got it at the store. To carry her groceries in.”
“Hm.”
They keep reading. They get to the bit about the dragon fight and Rose pauses, looking at the dragon.
“Why did the dragon not just eat the prince? Isn’t that what they’re supposed to do?”
“Maybe this dragon’s different.”
Rose’s face pinches a little as they keep going, finally getting to the part about the prince being disappointed with what the Paperbag Princess looks like.
“…that’s not very nice of him.”
“No, it isn’t.” Thomas shifts to ease a cramp in his leg. “I think he should’ve said thank you.”
“I think he should’ve saved himself.”
Thomas looks up at her. “What makes you say that?”
“He’s the prince. Princes aren’t supposed to need saving. Princesses are.”
Now, we don’t have time to unpack all of that… “This princess didn’t need saving, did she?”
Rose chews on her lip. “No…I guess not.”
“So maybe this prince did need saving.”
“But he’s not happy about being saved. Only princesses are ever happy about being saved. Princes don’t get saved, not like princesses do. People only like it when the prince saves himself. We’re not supposed to like when the princess saves the prince or when the prince gets saved by someone else. ‘Cause he’s always awful when he gets saved.”
Thomas looks at Rose for a long moment. Then he carefully closes the book and sets it aside, resting his hand on her shoulder.
“What’s wrong, Rose?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re upset, I can tell. What’s going on?”
She glances at the book again. “I’m a princess. I’m supposed to be saved.”
“That’s not all princesses can do, they can save things too. Even themselves.”
“But princes don’t get saved,” she says, still frowning, “they—they don’t get protected. They’re supposed to do the protecting. That doesn’t seem fair.”
“No,” Thomas agrees, “no, I suppose not.”
Where is this going?
But Rose doesn’t say anything else, just burrows into his arms and wraps her arms around his neck. She’s silent as they sit there, not saying a word for what feels like hours. When she does finally move again, she just picks up the book and turns, walking down the hall without another word.
Thomas stares after her and can’t help but feel like he’s missed something very important.
+1.
It’s the first time he’s managed to coax Rose away from the window, taking her hand and walking her downstairs to the living room where the others are gathered. Each of them waves, Patton smiling and crouching down to give her a hug.
“Are you going to have the meeting with us too?”
“Mhm.”
“Don’t feel as though you need to say anything,” Logan assures, “we’ll be more than happy for just your company.”
“We’ll behave, Princess, promise.”
Thomas ruffles her hair as she stands next to him. “Do we know where the others are?”
“I haven’t seen Roman yet this morning, but Remus is on his way.”
Thomas opens his mouth again when Rose suddenly clutches his pant leg. “Hey, what’s going on?”
No sooner has he asked does Remus appear, grinning at all of them startling at his appearance. “What’s got you all looking like a kraken just bit your butts?”
His eyes fall on Rose and he freezes.
“Behave, Remus,” Janus says lowly, “she’s from the Imagination. Don’t scare her.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Patton coos, “he won’t hurt you. He just looks a little scary.”
Rose cowers behind Thomas’s leg, refusing to budge even as they assure her it’s okay, Remus won’t hurt her.
“Tell her, Remus,” Virgil says, elbowing him, “tell her you’re not gonna hurt her.”
Remus doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even move, still staring at Rose like his eyes are about to fall out of his head.
“…Ro?”
Rose peeks out at him, one eye watching as he lowers himself to the ground, snapping his fingers and changing into a uniform of some sort, still black and green but different.
“It’s okay, Ro,” he says hoarsely, “it’s okay.”
Rose wails, tearing herself from Thomas’s side and throwing herself at Remus who catches her and pulls her into his lap, curling around her protectively. He nuzzles her hair and strokes the back of her head, letting her cry into his chest.
The rest of them watch, thunderstruck.
“It’s okay, Roro,” Remus keeps mumbling, “it’s okay. I gotcha, Roro, you’re okay.”
“‘Roro?’” Virgil glances at the others. “But that’s what he calls…”
The realization hits them all at the same time.
The princess, worrying about the color red, being so scared of each of them but still coming back to the same place, who saves the prince?
Thomas looks at the little girl in Remus’s arms.
Oh.
Oh.
Oh, no.
“Roman,” he says weakly, “Rose is Roman.”
Remus glances up at them. “What happened,” he growls, still holding Roman tight to his chest, “why did this happen?”
“I don’t know,” Thomas says weakly, “she just—he just—Roman just showed up like this one day and I…none of us knew what to do.”
“Why did Roman become a princess?”
“Because princesses get saved,” Logan says, shock giving way to horrified resignation, “princesses are…protected, comforted…they’re the ones who get saved, not the princes.”
Patton makes a noise of dismay and Virgil bites back a curse. “Roman thought this was the only way we would care?”
“It was,” Janus hisses, slowly crouching too, “because we saw a princess in need of rescuing and…didn’t question it.”
Thomas crouches too, watching Remus murmur something in Roman’s ear. “Remus, can Roman…turn back?”
“I’m not sure Roman wants to turn back right now.”
“What can we do, then?”
“Right now?” Remus looks down. “What do you need, Roro?”
Arms tighten on Remus as he pulls away and he quickly comes back, hugging Roman to his chest and standing up.
“It’s cuddle time,” he announces, “all of you move it.”
A mattress forms in the middle of the living room and the others quickly make sure the blankets and pillows have been moved as Remus sits down, still cradling Roman in his lap. Thomas sits next to him, smiling when Roman peeks out to look at him.
“Hey, Roman,” he murmurs, smiling when Roman looks at him a little more, “you wanna cuddle?”
Roman nods and he opens his arms, letting the little one crawl from Remus into his lap. He can feel the weight of Remus’s stare on the side of his face and he takes care to be extra gentle as he lies down, Roman on his chest.
“Get in here, the rest of you.”
“We’re coming.”
“Remus,” he hears Logan say quietly, “can you…explain a bit more later?”
“If Roro says it’s okay.”
“Lift your head,” Patton says, slipping a pillow behind his neck, “there.”
“I’ll keep watch,” Virgil says, perching on the edge of the mattress, “for Roman’s sake.”
Remus nods approvingly, holding Roman’s hand as it reaches out for him. “Go to sleep, Roro, we can figure everything else out later.”
Thomas glances down at Roman, whose other hand has twisted shyly into his shirt. He cards his fingers through Roman’s hair.
“You can sleep if you want,” he whispers, “you’re safe now.”
Later, when the sky is dark and the lights have long faded, Thomas wakes when the weight on his chest suddenly increases. He tries to sit up without disturbing the snores and whistles he can hear around him, looking down.
Roman, the Roman they know, is asleep, head pillowed on his chest, hand still intertwined with Remus’s.
Guess the prince got saved this time too.